I Don't Know Why, I Just Do
by KettleKornKueen
Summary: HouseChase, no longer oneshot, slash, post halfwit Chase is upset with House after he finds out he lied about brain cancer... now using EPs through Act Your Age... NO LONGER SAD! Last Chapter is up.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: I'm a total HouseChase shipper, but I also like the idea of House and Chase having a father/son relationship (this was written when I was in my slashy mood.) I might do a different story where the father/son relationship is played out if you guys would care to read it so let me know what you think of that idea and this story!

When Chase (and the rest of the team) found out about House's lie they were shocked. Faking brain cancer to get high… it was completely ridiculous… even for House. The team left House's apartment pissed off (Forman) flabbergasted (Cameron) and depressed (Chase). All Chase really wanted to do was curl up in bed with Cameron (even though cuddling really wasn't part of the deal) and sleep for the next billion years. He didn't want to see or deal with House again. He had been so rattled when Cameron told him and

Forman about the cancer; Chase also most completely lost it right there. He didn't though, because boys don't cry. Especially, they don't cry over dieing egotistical manipulative miserable pricks that punch people for no reason. So, Chase took a deep breath, bit the inside of his cheek, counted to ten, and went to inform House of the recent developments in the case.

That was hours ago, Patrick was going to be fine (for the most part) and Forman invited everyone out to dinner. Chase sat away from Forman and Cameron in the booth so they couldn't see the remains of the tears that had brimmed his eyes when he found out that House had been faking. (He didn't cry then either just took a deep breath, bit the inside of his cheek, counted to ten, and accepted Forman's offer). He, also, didn't really feel like being around other people, but he didn't want to be alone either. So, he took large gulps of red wine when no one was looking and refreshed his glass often. He was slightly tipsy when House limped into the restaurant looking extremely apologetic.

After a few awkward _hello_'s and another swig of wine Chase scooted over and let House take the seat next to him. The rest of the evening was enveloped in strange silences and prolonged pauses between casual chitchat. All the team really wanted to do was scream and yell at their boss.

The diner lasted a painstaking thirty minutes before they all headed for the door. Cameron and Forman left with no difficulty. Chase… not so much. His car wouldn't start. Chase was parked near the exit and as House was leaving he noticed his soul blond fellow trying, without success, to start his car. Frustrated Chase slammed his head on his steering wheel and tried to think of what to do next. This was a very bad day.

After about two minutes of deep breathing, biting, and counting there was a sharp _thud _on his driver side window. Looking up he saw House's face staring down at him.

"Come on," House said, "I'll drive you home."

Chase got silently out of his car and into House's.

Fastening his seatbelt he mumbled, "Thanks," more out of habit and doing the right thing than actually being thankful.

"No problem," House said cheerfully.

When they were about ten miles (both directions) from any other sign of human life House pulled the car over and turned to a growingly anxious Chase.

"Why do you like me?" House asked (well, more demanded that anything.)

"What do you mean?" Chase asked his voice breaking. His breath, bite, and count method was failing him. He was past anxious and had moved on to completely and totally freaking the crap out.

(Here's a little secret: Chase is bisexual, that's why he left the seminary. Since then he has been very comfortable in his skin…and his crush on House; but with all the political debate and homophobes in America these days he decided against coming out to his co-workers. Only a few close friends and his father knew/knows. And the only reason his father knew was because he caught Chase and one of his boyfriends in bed one day when he was checking up on Chase in med school to make sure he was staying on top of his school work. His mother had died before Chase had come to this realization and comfort in his sexuality.)

"You wouldn't have hugged me if you didn't like me, and I want to know why you like me," House reasoned.

"You mean like, why I like you, like you?" _God, _Chase thought to himself, _I sound like I'm fourteen. _

"No, I mean why you—wait, you like me, like me?" House tilted his head to the side and cocked and eyebrow staring at Chase humorously.

"No," Chase said looking down feeling House boring holes into the back of his head. He became entirely too aware of just how short of a distance there was between House's knee and his own, "I just didn't understand the question,"

"You're a horrible liar," House commented, Chase's face flushed, and he sighed. He was so tired of this lie. House was right he _was _a horrid liar, probably some subconscious lingering thought from his catholic school boy/seminary days where it was drilled into his head that lying was wrong and an awful sin.

After contemplating a comment for a few moments Chase settled on, "So…?"

House closed the gap between their knees and then some, House's knee was overlapping Chase's. He did it so that Chase would know it wasn't an accident, "I want to know why."

Chase rubbed his eye barley believing what was going on as he searched for a suitable answer, but he came up short… he had no idea why he liked House, he just did. He had no idea why he liked guys and girls, he just did. He had no idea why he generally leaned toward girls except for a selected few guys, he just did. He had no idea how there could be a supreme being named God that created everything on earth and not on earth, he just did believe in God. He never really analyzed why he liked or disliked things he just did and that was enough for him. He was entirely too accepting and forgiving he decided as he felt his anger and depression slip away from him as House's knee inched further and further up his thigh waiting for an answer. "I don't know why, I just do," Chase finally said looking House right in the eye.

House nodded and leaned closer and closer to Chase slipping his hand around Chase's neck pulling Chase's pretty mouth to House's. Chase let out a little moan feeling House's warm soft mouth take hold of his. The kiss started out slow, but gradually filled with passion until there wasn't one cell in House's mouth or one pour on his chest that Chase hadn't thoroughly explored.

House broke the kiss and pulled down his shirt from where it had been bunched up around his arm pits (Chase was just about to relive House of it.) They both took deep breaths and House pulled himself up from where he was laying on Chase and brought his face to about three centimeters away from Chase's and whispered, "Wanna go back to my place?"

They finished at the same time and lay in bed for a few moments gasping for air. Once Chase had retuned a decent amount of air to his lungs and was convinced he wasn't going to have a heart attack, he rolled out of bed and started to dress.

"Where are you going?" House mumbled, half asleep.

"Home," Chase replied, assuming this was just a one night stand sort of a deal at the least or a Cameron-type thing at most. Both of those situations involved Chase going home after to an empty and cold bed.

"You don't have a car," House reminded him. Chase sighed.

_Crap._

"I'll just call a cab, it's no problem. You should sleep; it might be a rough day for you tomorrow," Chase suggested, being polite and thoughtful even though his heart was shattering a little more with every stitch of fabric he allowed back on his body.

"Why waste money on a cab? I'll drive you to work in the morning," House was getting agitated, he wanted Chase to stay, in fact, he wanted Chase to slip into bed with him and never leave.

"You…_want _me to stay?" Chase squeaked hopefully.

House shrugged, "Yeah. Get in." He was being demanding, rude, and entirely to mean for a guy that really, really wanted something from the person he was being demanding, rude, and mean to. It made Chase smile. He stripped back down to his boxers, and socks (he never felts comfortable sleeping naked next to some one, and his feet always seemed to grow cold during the night.)

He laid his head on House's chest and tangled his legs in House's. He placed his hand on House's thigh (the one with the really nasty scar) and delicately ran his fingers up and down it tracing the jagged line.

Chase felt himself getting the urge to cry again as House's arms tightened around his torso and House's breathing became regular as he fell to sleep. This time Chase let his breaths remain shallow; he clenched his jaw together, and pushed numbers out of his mind. The tears fell freely down his cheeks and created a pool on House's chest. He had no idea why he was crying, he just was, and he liked the feeling of letting things out… finally. Chase was glad House was sleeping; he hated people getting all weeping and emotional around him.

But that was an issue they could deal with later.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Don't own

A/N: Okay, so this isn't a one shot anymore. This is the morning after and I used a sort of experimental format and I'm not really sure I did a very good job at keeping the characters in character so pleases, pleases let me know how you think I did with that part. It's also really short, so I'm sorry and I'll try to update ASAP… but apparently my teachers feel the need to drowned me in homework and projects these next few weeks. But I'll do my best to make good use of my study hall!

Chase woke up with a pounding headache. All that wine last night may have been a decent coping method at the time, but the morning after was not exactly worth it. All of a sudden, little bits and pieces of the night came flooding back to him.

-House's lie.

-The dinner invitation.

-The wine.

-The car trouble.

-The conversation.

-Chase's lie.

-The kiss.

-And then…

Chase jumped remembering what happened, and whose chest he was using as a pillow.

_-Oh. _

_-My._

_-God!_

Chase thought running a hand through his golden locks. They were stiff from where sweat had dried and clumped them together. He looked over at the clock on the night stand (_House's _nightstand) it read 7:44 A.M. he had to be at work in one hour and sixteen minutes. He looked back at House. He was sleeping peacefully, his mouth slightly opened and reeking of sweat… or was that Chase… or maybe a mixture of both.

Chase only knew six things for sure:

-He could not show up to work with House.

-He could not show up to work in yesterday's cloths.

-He could not show up to work smelling like he spent the majority of the night… _up_.

-He could not show up to work with his hair as horrid looking as he thought it did. -There was no way the medicine cabinet (_House's _medicine cabinet) was stalked with the hair products Chase uses.

-He had to shower at House's place and then let his hair dry on the way home where he could get cloths and change, so he wouldn't be late for work.

-He could not even start doing _any _of this until he dealt with this headache.

He rolled out of the bed (_House's _bed) for the second time and padded his way into the bathroom (_House's _bathroom). He rummaged through the medicine cabinet, finding nothing but Vicodin, razors, and oral care products. He closed the mirror door and studied himself in the mirror, making a mental list of all the things he hated about his facial features (there were seventeen) and then a mental list of all the things he liked (there were seven.)

He sighed as questions about last night and for coming nights popped into his head.

-_Was House as drunk as me?_

_-If so, does House remember?_

_-Did House even want it? Or was he just toying with me?_

_-What am I going to tell Cameron?_

_-Am I going to tell Cameron?_

_-Is he going to be upset that I'm planning on stealing his Advil and hot water? _

_-Are we dating?_

_-Is this going to turn into a Cameron-thing?_

_-Will I mind if it does? _

_-Will House tell everyone I'm bi?_

_-Will people even be surprised or even care? _

_-Is this going to happen again?_

_-Does House want this to happen again?_

_-Do I want this to happen again?_

(The answer to that last question was a definite capital, bold, and italicized: **_YES!_**)

Chase did his breath, bite, and count coping method once again and was relived and joyous with its effect. He gave up on the Advil search and was contemplating whether or not the sound of the shower would wake House up.

He wasn't quite sure if he wanted House to wake up and answer these questions.

-He wanted to know the answers, but at the same time he feared them.

-He wanted to hold House again (or rather have House hold him) but he had no idea if House wanted to.

-He wanted to break it off with Cameron and change his self label from "Robert Chase—single" to "Robert Chase—dating House" but he didn't know how his co-workers would react.

-He wanted to call House "Greg" but it would weird if they weren't dating.

-Most of all he wanted House to tell him what to do.

"Good morning," said House softy from the bathroom doorway. He stood in just pajama pants playing with his cane.

"Oh…uh…hi," Chase responded realizing he was still just in his boxers and socks.

House entered the bathroom and came closer and closer until there was about six inches of space between him and Chase, "So, what are you?" House asked reaching past Chase to the medicine cabinet and grabbing a pill bottle.

"What are you talking about?" Chase asked taking a step aside to allow the mirror door to open wide enough so House could retrieve his medicine.

"Do you like chicks or dicks? Or maybe you like chicks _with _dicks or--?"

"I'm bi… You?"

"I guess I'm bi too,"

"'You guess',"

"Yeah,"

"You mean you didn't know until…"

"Nope,"

"So that was your first time with…"

"Yeah,"

"Oh,"

"You?"

"No, I've know since I was nineteen,"

"That's why you left…"

"Yeah,"

"Right,"

"Right,"

"So…,"

"So…,"

"Dose this mean we're…? I don't how _this_ works,"

"Same as straight people,"

"Right,"

"Yeah,"

"So…,"

"So?"

"So, does it?"

"Uhh…well, I suppose if you wanted to, we could…,"

"If I want to? Does that mean you don't?"

"NO! I…I mean, no… I… do you?"


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Don't own

A/N: Hi! I love all the fabulously wonderful comments and I'm extremely grateful, but I would just like to let you know constructive criticism is always welcome. Along with ideas you want to see played out at fanfic. I'm suffering from a wee bit of writers block at the moments so… I, also, am not a big Cameron fan so I really haven't studied her behavior as much and House and Chase's so if any on you are Cameron fans and think I got some of this wrong let me know and I'll try to adjust my view of her in future chapters (I'm also not saying I'm an expert at House or Chase so your opinions of them are welcome too, I'm just at a loss with Cameron)… okay I've rambled long enough here is the chapter!

Chase was dozing in House's recliner in his office. He'd been this way since about five minutes after he walked into work, completely exhausted and about two hours late. (House came in about an hour before him and was currently sleeping in exam one.) This was due to last night's events and the creative way House answered Chase's question this morning.

There wasn't anytime for Chase to go home and get ready, so he was forced to make the most out of an almost-empty bottle of hair gel Wilson had left behind when he moved out, a two-sizes-too-big-bright-red-wrinkled-button-up-dress shirt that House had crumpled up and hid in his dresser, and a plain black tie House had stashed in the back of his closet from his Grandfather's funeral ten years ago. Chase decided trying to fit into House's pants would be way too much of a challenge and just wore his from last night. (House was three sizes bigger than Chase in pants and liked wearing them two sizes too big—Chase liked his two sizes too small.)

Chase looked completely ridiculous! With his golden locks looking stale and stiff and his shirt… he looked like an eight year old wanting to wear "grown-up" cloths to bring-your-child-to-work day. That morning when Chase stepped out of the bathroom in his "grown-up" cloths House couldn't help but smile and pull Chase in for a kiss… which just made him feel like a pedophile… until he slipped his hands around Chase's waist, brought them up to his abs, and realized no child could ever have Chase's washboard abs like his. This just made House want Chase even more and proceeded to take him for the second-and-a-half times that morning.

As Chase was curled up in a ball in House's chair he was having an extremely pleasant dream about the owner of the chair. Chase curled up tighter thinking he was in House's arms and breathed in the sent of his new lover off the backrest. Just as Chase came to a particularly pleasant part of his dream Cameron walked in, in time to hear Chase murmur, "House…," give a low moan, and press his face harder into the backrest of the delicious smelling chair.

Cameron was shocked. _There is no way…_ she thought. But then Chase whispered House's name again and nuzzle the backrest with a small smile of satisfaction. _HOUSE?! He's dreaming about HOUSE?! _Her jaw was frozen open and had dropped almost completely to the floor. It was hanging so low it might actually require surgery to return it to its normal position.

Chase blinked himself awake and smacked his lips together a few times. He repositioned himself in The Chair of Endless Fun realizing he was practically dating the fabric. He rubbed his eyes, yawned, and cracked his neck before noticing he wasn't alone.

"Oh, uh… hey Cameron. What's up?" Chase asked hoping she hadn't walked in when he was dreaming.

"Hey... sweet dreams?" She asked raising her eyebrows suggestively. Chase blushed and cleared his throat.

"Do we have a case?" He asked gesturing to the navy blue file she was holding.

"Yeah… (Insert proper medical jargon here.)"

"Where's Forman?" Chase asked glancing at the file; realizing they would need a neurologist.

"Um… clinic, I think," Cameron answered still partly freaking over Chase's dream.

"I'll get him… and House," Chase offered glad to have an excuse to get out of there away from Cameron's questioning eyes and underneath House's loving—well _liking _anyway—eyes.

Cameron nodded and turned away to go into the main office to write the symptoms on the white board.

HouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChase

There was a knock on the door of exam room one, a very loud, annoying, persistent knock. It was one that woke House out of a sound sleep—and dream similar to Chase's. House groaned and shifted around in the uncomfortable exam table he really must talk to Cuddy about getting them replaced.

The door opened and a plucky, glowing, tow-headed, boyish doctor in an insanely large shirt poked his statue stiff locks accompanied with a flushed pink face in the door, "Are you busy?" He asked knowing full-well the answer was no, his accent was unusually thick (that was on purpose, of course) and he had an pompous air to him that would have normally bugged House, but it seemed to be laced with a humility of sorts that put a certain tenderness in the young doctor that House admired and was constantly confused by.

"You interrupted my nap," House said gruffly sitting up.

"Sorry," Chase said closing the door clearly not sorry… but amused for some reason. He looked around and checked to see if the blinds were closed—they were. "We have a case (Chase talks about the patient)"

House sighed and rubbed his eyes, "It's probably just (medical disease) give her (medicine) and send her home," He lay back down on the exam table. Chase stayed, arms crossed.

"No, the ER already checked, the (test) was negative," he stepped closer to House and rest his hand on House's scar and began slowing kneading his fingers into it, House whimpered.

"Re… check it's… got to… be (disease)," House moaned and grabbed Chase's muscular arm pulling it to him and Chase (specifically Chase's mouth) onto him.

"They… did, it's not… (Disease)," Chase mumbled through it busy lips, he broke the kiss and brushed his fingers on the side of House's face. They were now lying horizontal on the table arms wrapped around each other; Chase had his face pressed against House's chest.

"Okay," House said softly, not being able to say no to Chase who looked so peaceful and happy just to be in House's arms.

"I… I think Cameron may know… about… us," Chase stuttered looking like a kid who just got his had caught in the cookie jar.

The door creaked open and Cameron burst in, with anger flickering in her eyes, wondering where House and Chase were—it had been almost a half hour since Chase went in search of House. The anger in her eyes turned to shock, then disbelief, then an emotion unrecognizable as she saw her play thing cuddling with her former love interest on an exam table.

Chase turned the color of deoxygenated blood. He tried to bolt from House's arms, but House held him there, and looking down with a small smile spread across his beaten and swollen lips, "I think she knows for sure now,"


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: Hello fanficers! Alright, so I promise no more Madlibs. I apologize, I can't make any sense out of medical internet sites besides the articles and punctuations, and my medical knowledge is limited to eight grade anatomy… (Although I have the flow of blood in the heart memorized!) And that's pretty much it… So, I've tried my best here to work around the medical stuff, and slow it down a bit to take my time, but in about a week, I think, I'm going on a family vacation during Spring Break, I'll be gone Saturday the 31st through Saturday the 7th. And I won't have access to internet. I know; I'm still trying to figure out how I will survive! (This is where I will quietly burst into tears.) But, hopefully through packing and planning I can get a few more chapters done and uploaded (is that the correct term?) before we leave. Alright I really need to learn when to shut up… let's get to the chapter!

House, Chase, and Cameron walked back to the office in silence lost in their own thoughts.

Chase was wondering if his face was still scarlet (it was.)

Cameron was wondering how long this had been going on between House and Chase and was speculating weather or not this was the reason House rejected her. (She had momentary memory lapse and had forgotten about Stacy.)

House was wondering if Cameron was going to tell anyone else. (He didn't really care, but Chase on the other hand was sensitive... he had tried to keep his attraction to other men hidden and had done a fantastic job, even House was fooled. Well, until… House smiled.)

The three stepped into a nearly full elevator and Chase was forced to lean up against House for two floors. When the elevator doors dinged open and 3/4th of the occupants walked off to save lives, or visit loved ones, the two lovers separated… but only slightly. Chase's hand remained lightly touching House's. Cameron didn't notice this.

They entered the office. (The color on Chase's face faded slightly and was now baby pink.) They all gave an awkward "hello" to Forman and dove into the differential.

HouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChase

"Forman, Cameron prep her; Chase set up the exploratory surgery and get consent," House order after a long, emotional differential that left everyone in hot tempers.

The team stood up and went to do their tasks. House had something of his own to do.

He popped three Vicodin and contemplated if what he was going to do next was a good idea or an atomic bomb waiting to drop and ruin everything.

He decided to take a risk.

Walking on the balcony between his office and Wilson's every rational thing in House's mind and body was screaming, yelling, and going ballistic trying to get him to turn back… but he was there. He knocked on Wilson's door and walked in not waiting for an answer. Wilson was alone filling out some paperwork and eating lunch. (A ham sandwich, a pop, and potato chips.)

"Hey," House said uneasily and cautiously snatching Wilson's chips away as he sat down.

"Hey," Wilson said matching House's uneasiness and caution with an added sprinkling of curiosity.

House stared at the ground for about five seconds then tapped his cane on the floor in an urgent manner that meant he was thinking way too hard about something. (He was.)

"I'm sorry," House said abruptly, giving the cane one last _thud _on the floor before looking up. Wilson looked at him with forgiving eyes and set his pen down, "I need your advice," House's voice was perkier as he ripped open the chips.

"About…"

"Chase… I… sleptwithhimlastnight," House blurted and spun his cane around as he waited nervously for Wilson's reply, although his demeanor remained calm and cool.

"You… had sex with—,"

"Yes! Can we get past the freaking out part and get into the helping out part?" _So much for calm and cool _House thought.

"Sounds like you're still in the freaking out part…" Wilson mused.

This was met with a withering stare from House.

Wilson paused and thought hard as he tried to absorb the news. He had always had a sneaking suspicion House liked guys as well, especially Chase, (well, maybe _like _didn't define it completely _like to look at _would probably be more appropriate) with all the snide comments on his looks and his being in general. (He, also, noticed something there between him and Cuddy… but that was a different matter.)

"Well, okay, do you…_ like_ him?" He asked after partially digesting the news. (Later he would sit in his office and dissect and psycho-analyze and fry his brain thinking about this one subject until he had fully wrapped his mind around it.)

House pondered this a moment. He liked sleeping with Chase, he like the way Chase looked, he like the fact that in pretty much every situation he would ever be in with Chase he would have the upper hand, he liked how freaked out Cameron was, he liked the effect he was having on Chase (how he was becoming a better diagnostician, and sticking up for himself more), he liked how _Chase_ liked _him_… but House liking Chase for things other than to feed his controlling habits and the obvious physical virtues that would (and have already) ensue… he just didn't know if he could see himself spending hours at a time staring into his eyes or discussing basically nothing like he had done with Stacy. So far, it was all sex and House wasn't at all certain that he wanted anything else.

He told this to Wilson.

Wilson sighed and rubbed his brow, "You can't mess with him, House. He's… sympathetic, and if things go south, he could win a sexual harassment lawsuit and you…,"

"Would be screwed," House nodded noting his reasoning.

"Yeah,"

"So…," House rested his forehead on the handle of his cane, "What do I do?"

"I…," Wilson shook his head and sighed again, "You have to figure it out. I can't…" He drew in a large breath of air realizing that was a crappy response, "if you stay with him and it works out… great, but if you stay with him and… it doesn't work out too great you're…,"

"Screwed,"

"Or, you could just dump him now and avoid that whole mess. The only problem is you've already slept with him, so…"

"I could be screwed,"

Wilson nodded, "Or he could just accept that you don't want to be with him and either he gets a different fellowship or he could stay and things would be… _awkward_ to say the least and that would just…"

"Make things screwy,"

They both chewed on this for a while.

"So," House spoke first, "Either I: get sued, lose an intensivist, become uncomfortable at work, or… get married," The last word was spoken as it was dripping with incredibly lethal venom.

Wilson viciously rubbed his eyes in agreement.

"Think he'd actually sue me or press charges?" House asked tapping a pattern out with his cane.

"He did rat you out to Vogler, who knows what he's capable of—"

"He ratted on me to save his job, not because he was angry with me," House pointed out.

"I guess… this is your call House,"

House nodded and stood up and walked toward the door.

"What are you going to do?" Wilson asked as House's hand reached for the knob; he left it sit there for a moment before looking across the room to a poster on Wilson's wall, but not turning his head far back enough to see Wilson. He stabbed the floor with his cane, "No idea,"


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: HELLO ALL1 Okay so here it is! (WARNING: It's sad :'( )

It was five O' clock that same night.

Patient had been diagnosed and sent home.

Cameron had just left—holding the secret of her boy toy and ex-crush all to herself.

Cuddy was at home accompanied with a glass of wine and roaring fire to de-stress.

Forman left earlier—about five minutes after they found the treatment to be working.

Wilson was locked away in his office fruitlessly trying to get a patient in a clinical trial.

Chase was packing up his stuff wondering if calling a cab company or hailing one would be the best.

House was in his office sulking because Cuddy had given him two more hours of clinic duty each week for the next month after she caught him watching TV with a patient.

Just as Chase was slipping his medical dictionary in his messenger bag for safe keeping he knocked his bright red coffee cup onto the floor. It was empty—thankfully and didn't shatter—double thankfully. As he leaned over to pick it up House glanced into the main office to see who was still there; he caught a particularly pretty sight. This reminded him that the ass he was admiring didn't have a car to sit it to go home that night.

House got up and walked into the next room.

Chase got out his cell and started to dial.

"Who are you calling?" House asked from the door way.

"Cab Company," Chase replied holding the phone to his ear.

"Hang up," House ordered. There was no way he was going to let some sleazy driver gawk at Chase then swindle forty plus bucks out of him. Yes, he was a little possessive.

Chase complied and gave House an inquisitive look.

House pulled on his jacket and grabbed his blue book bag of the coat rack in the corner. He motioned toward the door and started to it, "I'll give you a lift,"

Chase smiled when House wasn't looking.

House frowned when Chase wasn't looking.

_Wilson is right. This can't end well._ House thought. _So, why am I doing this?_

His question got no answer in return.  
They were lost in their own thoughts walking out to House's car.

The silenced remain as they got in and gradually became more and more awkward.

"Um, just hang a left here," Chase directed. He didn't understand the silence and made a mental list in his head of all the possible reasons why they suddenly had forgotten how to speak:

_-House really isn't bi, he was just confused. _

_-House realized this was a bad idea._

_-House is pissed I stole his shirt and tie. _

_-House didn't think I was that good and was only with me for that. _

_-House is worried about Cameron and other people knowing. _

_-House doesn't think I'm pretty enough._

_-House thinks I'm _too _pretty and doesn't like that type._

Chase kept himself occupied with theses thoughts and others between periodically telling House when to turn and wringing his hands.

(Here's another secret: Chase has only ever been in two steady relationships in his entire life. The first one lasted two months when he was sixteen to a girl in his youth group who dumped him when he lost the lead part in the upcoming school musical to David Reeves. Oddly enough she started dating David afterwards. The second lasted six months to his English Lit. Professor who would curl up in bed with him late at whisper eloquently crafted lines of Chaucer and Poe into his ear. His breath on Chase's ear would send theses little tingles of excitement and happiness down Chase's spine; little did he know at the time his wonderful professor was sending little tingles of excitement and happiness down lots of other student's spines too. He didn't really know how to handle himself in a relationship where he didn't have to: leave right afterwards, prepare himself for seeing his lover out on a date with someone else, or lie to his friends about where he was going that night. He liked that feeling, but wasn't quite sure House wasn't thinking quite on his path.)

He wasn't.

They pulled up at Chase's apartment.

"So… uh, you, uh, wanna… come up?" Chase asked timidly hiding behind his hair.

House nodded.

HouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChaseHouseChase

House sat awkwardly on the black leather couch and surveyed his surroundings. There were bare, solid black walls accompanied by a pitch black stain free carpet and all shinny black furniture.

"Homey," House commented noticing the WWII-worthy black out curtains covering every window.

"I get migraines a lot," Chase explained standing in the door way to his kitchen holding a beer (House's) and a water (Chase's), "the darker, the better,"

House nodded and accepted the beer form Chase. _Migraines can be triggered for physiological reasons. _House thought. That just made it worse.

Chase shyly sipped his water before setting it down on the sparkling midnight table. Then he sat himself down on the floor in front of House and sucking in a big gulp of air as he place his hands on House's knees. He tried to control the shaking messes that they were, but it was really no use, House noticed right away. Now House_ really_ couldn't do what he planned on doing if he let Chase… right before he…

"Stop," House half commanded and half sighed just as Chase's hands were at House's belt. Chase looked up at him with big, blue, beautiful, round, love sick, puppy dog eyes, "Get up." Chase complied sat on the said sparkling table nearly knocking his water over so he could sit across from House and not have to crane his neck to talk to him.

"What's wrong?" Chase asked the shakiness flowing from his hands into his voice.

"Look, this… isn't going to work out," Chase's face fell all the way to China, he looked away and focused on a black-framed mirror. The sight he saw was not a pretty one.

Two men sitting face to face sitting surrounded by black both literally and abstractly. One looked sorrowful and slightly annoyed (although at whom, the other did not know). The other looked far sadder than words could describe he was biting the inside of his cheek so hard that he felt the awful taste of blood creep into his mouth and enclose itself around his perfectly polished white teeth.

"Oh," was the only thing Chase could find to say. He hated how needy and pathetic it was when people said all these really sappy things when they were getting dumped. As if, a thirty second proclamation of love could not change someone's mind (especially not to some one as headstrong as House was).

House remained silent.

Chase stood and walked toward the door.

House stood and watched his now ex-lover open the door and stand silently suffering in the doorway.

House found himself floored by how bad he felt, but Wilson was right. _This _was right. Cameron was, also, right when she said that House did things because they're right. So, that is what he did and tried to no feel sorry for the broken boy lingering in the opening.

After House was gone Chase popped some Excedrin for the migraine he was feeling was coming on. He then lay on his back on the floor of his depressing as hell apartment. His arms and leg spread out like he was making a snow angle. He let blood fill his mouth, but as far as liquids go that was it. He did not cry.

It was a few hours since House left and Chase's migraine had subsided.

It was a few hours since House left but House's guilt had not subsided.

Chase did not want to spend tonight alone, so he did the only this he knew.

House did not want to spend tonight alone, so he did the only this he knew.

He picked up the phone and called his favorite fuck buddy.

He picked up the phone and called his favorite hooker service.

He hoped a few mindless hours of fun wouldn't hurt.

He knew a few mindless hours of fun wouldn't hurt.

They both wished they weren't with who they were with.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: Hi! I'm so, so sorry for the hiatus fanfic was being bitchy and I've been so depressed by this entire Cameron/Chase thing that I haven't been able to write. (I HATE HER! I HATE HER! I HATE HER! Okay… I'm all right now… I think… no I'm not **_I HATE HER! _**Deep breath… in… and out… okay I'll deal with my rage later for now I must focus on this chapter.) Originally I killed Cameron off, but I thought having her getting abducted by crazy psycho killers and having her being pecked apart alive by vultures while the said crazy psycho killers and that mother from the episode "Poison" (season one episode eight if my memory serves me right.) (I just watch it) stand around laughing and making mean comments about obese people would be just a smidgen to harsh. But don't worry revenge will come… it's just best served cold is all. And PS I LOVE YOU ALL. Your comments are all so sweet, but the constructive criticism thing still stands. And here we go!

It had been exactly two weeks, three days, eleven hours, and twenty-three minutes since House stepped out of Chase's front door, but (much to Chase's dismay) not his life. Well, that's not entirely true.

Ever since The _Incident _(as Chase referred to it in his own mind) House had been distance from Chase, barely casting him a sideways glance every now and then. Even when Chase got the next two cases right and possibly saved the hospital a major lawsuit all House did was give a firm nod. At least, before Chase got _some _acknowledgement.

House still continued to throw an "idiot" comment or sneer about his father's bank account his way just so no one would think there was something strange going on. (Or, more correctly there _use to be _something strange going on.)

Pretending nothing bad happened was one of Chase's specialties.

He could mentally prepare himself for seeing House in seconds (it was a skill that came in handy in his youth, dealing with his father and other people that disliked, rejected, were disappointed, or indifferent to him.) But one thing he was not prepared, nor could he ever be was when Chase walked—unannounced—into House's office.

The blinds were drawn, although the door was slightly ajar, and Wilson and House were talking in the dark. They didn't notice Chase entered and he made to move to reveal himself.

"…migraines can have emotional triggers you know," Wilson informed House in a soft caring voice.

"Yeah," House snapped, "I went to medical school too,"

Wilson sighed in response.

House groaned.

"House… you know you haven't been your usual miserable self lately. You seem even worse," Wilson shifted his weight from his right foot to his left as he stood in front of House.

"Thanks for the insight. Hand me my coffee," House demanded.

Wilson sighed again.

"Do you think this may have anything to do with Chase?"

The question hung in the air between them, suspended like when you're a kid and you jump of a swing after pumping yourself so high you are dangerously close to flipping over. The first few blissful milliseconds before you drop down on to hard pebbles, rough sand, or lethal blacktop. Then you either end up with rocks in your socks, a face full of sand, or a sprained ankle. All the choices suck. So, House let the question hang.

Of course, Wilson knew the answer was yes, it has everything to do with Chase.

Of course, House knew Wilson knew the answer was yes, it has everything to do with Chase.

Of course, Chase knew the answer was yes, it has everything to do with me form the way House remained silent.

Wilson sighed (loudly, he has a nasty habit of that).

House moaned (loudly, he hates Wilson's nasty habit).

Chase left (quietly, also hating Wilson's nasty habit for House).

Chase was dazed and confused when he got home that night. House felt guilty, yet he said that they "weren't going to work out" it didn't make any sense.

Now, Chase isn't (and hadn't ever been) a big risk taker. Well, sure he liked making trivial bets with his mates and hosting the odd poker game here and there. But when it comes to matters of the heart Chase would rather not take that one particular risk, but it seemed as if that was his only choice. House was going to Asia for some conference tomorrow and he needed to say something to House before he left. So he grabbed his car keys off the hook by the door and sprinted to the elevator.

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There was a loud, persistent rapping on House's front door. House groaned and rolled out of bed limping over and answered the door. His migraine was long gone but he was exhausted and not in the mood to see anyone. (Not that he ever was, but especially not now, he had a fight in a few hours!)

Standing before him was Chase grinning from ear to ear his hair mussed and he was out of breath. His cheeks were slightly flushed pink and he reminded House of a little kid once again. But House pushed those thoughts out of his mind as Chase leaped forward and slammed House against his wall. _Gee, for a little guy Chase sure is strong _House thought tangling his finger through Chase's hair. He let himself get lost in Chase's mouth for a few moments before shoving Chase off him.

They stood and face to face panting for about a minute before House said in a low soft tone, "Chase, what the hell?"

Chase took a deep breath and a step to House, "I know you said that wouldn't work, but I walked in on you and Wilson and…," Chase trailed off noticing the disapproving look House was giving him.

"Chase go home, or to Cameron's place," He said coldly.

"House I don't want to be with her it just sex I want more… for us,"

House shook his head in response.

"But the migraine…," Chase pleaded. "House come on,"

"Chase, there isn't ever going to be anything more between us, it was a few nights of fun. That's all." It hurt House just as much to say this, but he feared the same thing would happen between him and Chase and it did him and Stacy. He'd ruin it and then never get to be around Chase… you know, unless his husband required a world renowned diagnostician to save his life.

"House…" Chase choked back a sob. "Please don't…"

House sighed and shook his head again limping back to his bedroom. Chase stood even deader inside that before, only now it was in House's foyer.

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The next week Chase was on top of his game he got the diagnosis right with Fran but he wasn't as happy about it as he should have been.

Aside from breath, bite, and count method there was another one that always worked out well for him. It was the fall in love with someone else method. After every break up he would go and find some one new to drown his sorrows in. He'd fall head over heels and next thing you know he could barely remember the name of his last love. Just ask his two ex-wives and ex-husband (None of the marriages lasted longer than a few months). In this case Cameron was the person with whom he wanted with great passion to, well, want with great passion.

So he obsessed and surrounded himself with her as much as possible for that week that by the end his blood type had been replaced from AB negative to C positive.

And then with C positive flowing through his veins and arties and into a broken and bruised heart he told Cameron what he told House. He wanted more pure and simple. But then… and then it was over and that was it.

So he went home, opened a bottle of scotch, curled up on his couch in front of a roaring fire and drank himself to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: Okay, so I feel bad for making Chase miserable for the past two chapters. So now this is a happy chapter. It is, also, the last chapter in this particular story. I'm thinking possibly a sequel. But first I want to finish a story I started a long, long, _long _time ago called Chase's Secret. It is hiding way, way back in the archives of the Chase, In-progress section and I've written the few chapters already. It is going to be _very _angst-y but it will still be somewhat realistic. Right now it's not a slash, but we will see. Anyway, I'm going to stop pimping out my other stories and get to the last chapter. (Makes sad face.) (PS I wasn't able to do anything mean to Cameron here so I'm thinking an oneshot deathfic… bring on the crazy psycho killers… anyone with me?) (Makes happy face.)

The next morning Chase woke up with a killer hangover. He groaned and stumbled out of bed making his way across his room. The only thing that worked to wake him up was putting his alarm clock on the other side of his room and setting the volume on full blast. He rubbed his eyes after turning his alarm off (well actually he unplugged it and hurled it on his bed. Same diff.) He padded his way into his bathroom and started the shower; cranking the heat up as hot as it would go.

He stripped and slid under the boiling water, but kept the water pressure low. It pounded down onto his shoulders glided across the rest of his smooth tight body. The scalding water seemed to follow every curve and outline of Chase's being that House or Cameron had touched. It started at the spot right behind his earlobe then effortlessly dripped down his neck; there it either went down his back in the crease of his shivering spine, over the tight hump in his back and then finally coated the back of his well-defined calf muscles. For the water that took the front trip it slipped down his chest (right down the middle) then detoured at his washboard abs trickling either down the right or left side before joining together at a point where Chase really didn't want to think of House or Cameron touching… (As he thought of all the places he let House and Cameron explore he was getting closer and closer to the edge of breaking down thinking neither would ever "settle down" on him after their explorations.) Then just like on his back, the water would coat the front of his legs and migrate between his thighs so his legs were completely drenched. Lastly it squished between his toes before swirling the drain.

Chase was close to losing it he blasted the pressure and let it burn onto his leaking eyes until the only water hitting his cheeks came out of the shower head.

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Chase arrived at work with his head still throbbing and the strap of his messenger bag cutting into his shoulder blade. Thankfully, he was able to make it through the entire day without exchanging anymore words besides a simple and polite "hello" or "excuse me" when the unfortunate event occurred of them bumping into one another with House or Cameron. Chase excitedly packed up his things after a long hard day at the clinic prescribing cough medication and getting thrown up on by stomach flu-ridden children. He was exhausted and couldn't wait to curl up with a glass a wine and a good book to forget his sorrows in a slightly healthier way.

And then Cuddy caught House trying to sneak out…

Chase wished House was a lot better at sneaking out.

But, then again, he was because he was able to pone off the patient's file onto his employees and sneak home to do god only knows what as the team's work day increased dramatically.

House's orders were stupid. And Chase decided that taking crap from Forman and Cameron all night was not something he wanted to do so he left. Quite happily, in fact.

It wasn't the first time Chase had walked out when he had been frustrated or overwhelmed. (Cue yet another bad coping technique.) Then when he got home he did just what he was planning on doing: hunkering down in front of an angry fire with a Sci-Fi novel about aliens invading earth and three or four glasses of red wine.

The next morning Chase knew that he couldn't come into work empty handed. So his picked up the patients test results and proudly (yet nonchalantly) handed them over to House, becoming very pleased with the effect it had on House and his fellow House's bitches. It was as if the whole thing had just blown over with House, and that was a very good thing. It seemed as if Chase's mind was now he was free to focus on Cameron.

His attempts to win Cameron over during that case had failed to say the least. But he was still determined to try to win her "back". So, after the case was solved Chase did some successful sneaking of his own as he snuck off to call the local florist.

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Chase got home after giving Cameron the flowers to find House leaning up against his front door playing with a yo-yo.

"House?" Chase question stepping off the elevator mid-way through searching his bag for his keys, "What are you doing here?"

House continued to yo-yo while pondering his answer.

Chase stood patiently knowing House as a thinker but at the same time he wanted desperately to find out why he was here.

"Do you really want this," House asked, his head still down watching the bright blue yo-yo sink and rise in his control.

"Wha- what do you mean" Chase stuttered crossing his arms defensively.

"Us, this, do you still want it?" House raised his head to look Chase in the eye.

Chase was absolutely floored.

It was House who had shot Chase down _twice. _It was House who forced Cameron and him to work together searching the little girl's home. It was House who never opened up. It was House who everyone said had a crush on Cuddy. It was _House _who was standing before him? That made no sense! It was over, it was done. He had gotten over House the only person in his mind right now was Cameron, _Cam-er-on. C-A-M-E-R-O-N! She _was the reason he was heart-broken not _House. _No, definitely _not _House.

But then he looked into House's yo-yo colored eyes and could not stop think about _him. _And it was like with just one look _she _had varnished and Chase had no idea what to do. He could sense Cameron coming around. After all, she said that she didn't want a relationship _not _that she didn't have feelings. Forman was right. Forman was right! That meant there was still a chance with Cameron.

But the way House was looking at him made him not want Cameron anymore. It made him reject all the C positive blood cells and filled him up with H positive. It was done so fast. With just that look House was giving him. It had never happened so fast. It just hit him all at once. He didn't need to obsess to become obsessed about House. It just happened. _Boom! _

"So…?" House asked.

Chase had his answer. But he needed to clear something up first. "What about you and Cuddy?" He spoke so softly that the only way House could understand what he was saying was by the tone of Chase's voice and sadness creeping into his eyes.

House cleared his throat. "I do this thing, when I'm trying to forget about something… or someone… I try to focus on other things… or people… so I don't have to deal with what I don't want to,"

Chase stared at House intently for a few moments before answering his question with a kiss.

And done! (Makes sad/happy face.)


End file.
